Doomed Project of Doomy Doom and Such
by FallenAngel331
Summary: After Zim and Dib are forced to work on a skool project together, Dib finds out things about Zim he's not sure he ever really wanted to know. Ever. Rating upped to 'M' for explicit content in the latest chapter and mild language. Woo!
1. Chapter 1: The Bad Beginning

"NOOO! NOOOOOO! NOT THE TACOS!"

"Yes, the tacos! Grah, I need to get to skool, GIR! I'm already late!"

"BUT NOT THE TACOS!"

"YES, THE TACOS. Maybe if you hadn't spent all morning making them and singing that _horrible _song about cucumbers, you would have woken me up on time!"

"BUT … THE TACOS!"

"HOW ELSE ARE YOU GONNA LEARN!"

Zim dumped an entire tray of tacos down the enlarged trash compactor and turned back to scowl evilly at GIR, his eye twitching with obvious irritation. GIR ran around the room, screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs until he ran into a wall and toppled over. With a groan of frustration, Zim just flung the tray into the trash compactor as well, running to the door. "I'm already LATE because of you, you incompetent robot!" he shouted as he slammed the door behind him, bolting down the street as fast as his tiny, Irken legs could carry him. "The teacher drone is going to murder me!"

(later that day)

Zim wasn't too far off. The second he opened the door to the classroom, he had a mouthful of snarling, white fangs in his face. He let out a yelp and fell back against the door, recoiling into a cringe.

"You're LATE," Mrs. Bitters spat, pointing to his seat and suddenly appearing back in her desk chair. "That's two nights of detention from you, Zim! Or … you can just bang your head against your desk for a while."

"BLUARGH! ZIM DOESN'T STAND FOR SUCH ABUSE!" Zim shouted angrily, waving his fists into the air. Mrs. Bitters simply had to snarl in his face, and he darted to his seat, peering timidly over the surface at her with a squeak. She squinted an eye as he groaned and began to smack his forehead against the surface of the desk, and turned to the class.

"Now, class," she growled to the room, rubbing her hands together as she made herself audible over the loud 'thunk'ing of Zim's head. "The administration has given a HORRIBLE new project this year about humans' body parts. I have decided to pick the partners just to make the experience more horrible for you! Now. The partners will go as follows. Zita! You are with Brian!"

Brian and Zita both let out a whoop of joy. At least they were with someone they liked!

"NO. YOU'RE TOO HAPPY," Mrs. Bitters screeched suddenly over their squeals, and they immediately fell silent. "Brian! Go with Keef! And Zita! Go with Mary!"

Both let their heads hang as they dragged their feet over to their partners. Keef just pulled at his teeth and started giggling insanely. Mrs. Bitters glanced over at him with a scowl, to which he automatically responded by forcing a frown. It looked like it was causing him physical pain. "Anyway… Dib!" she shouted. "You are going to be with…" She scanned the room, looking through all the disgusted faces and pointing at each one to try to decide which one to put him with. Her eyes finally settled on the seat all the way to her left on the first row, and she pointed sharply at him. "You're with Zim!"

There was an abnormally loud 'thunk!' and an outraged squawk as Zim looked up from his punishment, utter disgust overtaking his features. "WHAT!" Dib cried, waving his arms around maniacally. "Uh, actually, I mean … Woo! Yay! Zim's my favorite person ever!" He randomly pulled out maracas and started shaking them in feigned happiness. All at once, Mrs Bitters was leaning over his desk, glaring down at the maracas. Her eyes seemed illuminated in the dim light of the room, and it was enough to make Dib stop at once.

"Nice try," Mrs Bitters scoffed as she snaked back over to her desk, starting to rattle off more names for partners. Dib just threw the maracas onto the ground and scowled bitterly into the wall, wishing for skool to be over.

(later that day)

"Just because we're partners on this … PROJECT … doesn't mean I have to like you, Dib!" Zim spat into the ground as the two of them walked side by side from the skool yard, Zim's hands clenched so tightly into fists that he could feel his claw-like fingers digging into his flesh.

"I didn't say anything about you liking me…" Dib said slowly, looking up from the book he had cradled in his left arm. "Look, I hate this just as much as you. So let's just get this over with already, and with the least amount of pain possibly, okay?"

Zim squinted as he noted Dib holding out his hand for Zim to shake, and crossed his arms. "The last time I shook your hand … you turned me into baloney."

"You tried to turn me into baloney first!" Dib cried, flailing around hysterically. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "See, this is exactly what I mean! We're already fighting!"

"Well, maybe if you didn't try to turn your partner into b-"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT THE BALONEY THING!"

The two stood across from each other, fuming and breathing heavily. Dib screwed up his face into a snarl and held out his hands again. "Truce? For now? Please?"

Zim contorted his facial features into a look of sheer physical pain, and finally just shook Dib's hand. "Fine," he spat, recoiling his hand as though he'd been burned. "Now. Let's go to your house."

"My house? Why my house!"

"Well, you're obviously not going to MY house!"

"Fine! We'll go to my house!"

"Good! That's what I thought!"

"But next time, we're going to your house!"

"Hah! You just try!"


	2. Chapter 2: Ew, God, No

WHY DO MY PAGE BREAKS NEVER WORK?

Bah.

Holy crap, another chapter! Yes! And so soon! Woo! I get bored in the day, so I may be updating this a lot. Anyway. Down to the important stuff: Thank you very much andalitebandit-6 and Mosquito Number 13 for your marvelous reviews :D They make me happy as all living hell, ; so keep em coming, people! Anywho … enough philosophy. Onto the story.

(Chapter 2)

Zim had always hated lunch. It was his least favorite subject; least favorite class – had been since the first day of skool. He never understood this whole obsession with … food. He had never needed it (of course, that could be due to his PAK) and it tasted absolutely revolting. He grimaced at the ketchup and rice on the tray in front of him and shoved it away, looking around the cafeteria. Sometimes he wondered why he even wasted his monies on this filth. Just to appear more 'normal'? It's not like he ate it anyway.

His scanning eyes quickly locked onto Dib from across the room, and Zim dropped his head onto his arms, squinting an eye at the human and frowning. Dib was stabbing his own hideous lunch with a plastic spoon, completely ignoring the video game addict to his left. Zim could feel himself studying Dib for several long seconds, grimacing at the sight of his scythe-like hair and that ridiculous blue shirt he wore every single day. He could hardly believe his misfortune at being partnered with this disgusting beast.

"So … SICKENING," Zim spat as he stood, letting out a heavy sigh as he trudged across the cafeteria towards the demon, hands fidgeting as he walked. Dib hardly even flinched as Zim approached the table. "We're going to your house after school today, yes?" Zim said simply once he had reached the other side of the cafeteria, and defensively folded his arms tightly across his chest. Dib looked up from his tray, his eyes growing a scandalized glint to them as he glanced the alien over.

"MY house? We're going to YOURS today!"

"NO. We were just at mine yesterday!"

"No, we weren't! We were at mine!"

"Liar!"

"You tried to set my couch on fire when it reclined with you on it!"

"…Liar!"

"Why do you two have to have your stupid fight by ME?"

Zim and Dib both looked to Gaz, slightly peeved by the creepy, wrath-filled tone her voice had taken on. She even gave them the liberty of glancing up from her Game Slave at their silence. "Well, seriously. Go have your little love banter in the bathroom or something. I don't want to hear it."

"Love banter?" Zim asked confusedly, and gave a small mocking laugh. "Revolting wormbaby, that would mean we're-" He froze as his eyes widened, contorting his face into a look not unlike Dib's current one – as if he was going to projectile vomit all over Gaz's face. "OH, EW. GROSS!" He gagged and grasped at his throat. "DISGUSTING! You humans are even more nauseating than I thought! Me? With the DIB!"

"Really, Gaz. That's … just sick. He probably doesn't even have a … you know…" Dib grimaced.

"I'm PERFECTLY functional down there, thankyouverymuch!" Zim spat in one long string of words, huffily taking a small leap back at the obscenity of this conversation. "Not that YOU need to know!"

"No, I didn't," Dib growled. "And if you'll excuse me, I have some puking to get to in the bathroom." He scowled and stalked away, hands in fists at his side.

"That's right! Run! Run while you can!" Zim shouted after him. "My very presence sickens you, you miserable beast! Run!" He was greeted with a juice box to his head shortly afterwards, and made a point to glower evilly at Gaz before storming back off to his own table in a huff.

(later that day)

"Your sister sickens me."

Dib looked up from the poster he had been sketching on for the last 10 minutes to give Zim a dark glower. Zim had been toying around with some type of device since he had gotten to Dib's house (a location they had bickered about upon setting the first step out of the skool). This project had definitely made him quite lax about his secrecy around Dib. "You know, you could actually DO something other than play around with your stupid alien … whatever that thing is," Dib replied bitterly, hunching back over and drawing a few more bullets onto the poster board.

"I AM doing something," Zim snapped as he rapidly pressed buttons on the control in his hands. "I have to research you filthy humans and your… rees-pire-a-tary … system. So shut your noise tube!"

"Respiratory," Dib automatically corrected, not even bothering to look up. "And for the record, there's no such thing as a noise tube. There's a voice box and vocal cords, but no noise tube."

Zim took the decency to ignore that last bit as he scanned through pages of information, his eyes growing more and more squinted by the second. "This is infuriating! Why must there be so much to these systems!"

"I dunno. Humans are pretty complex, I guess. Just because all Irkens have is your … squiggly spoot … or whatever the hell you called it … doesn't mean we're inferior or something though."

"Squeedly spooch. And I never said inferior," Zim retorted, his voice more quiet this time. "Just annoying." He flickered through more pages, printing out random bits and pieces through the top of the device he was clutching in his fingers and tossing it onto the ground. "I need a break. This is hurting my eyes." He watched for several long seconds as Dib drew one last thing onto the poster, and frowned upon him hesitating briefly.

"Zim … do you ever wonder why people keep thinking we're gay?"

Zim looked up with confusion, cocking an eyebrow in response. "Gay? What is this 'gay' you speak of?"

"You don't know what it is?"

"…No…"

"Do you have any, like, same-sex-dating Irkens or … whatever?"

Zim hesitated, looking down at his hands and debating whether he should share that bit of information or not. "Irkens … don't really have a gender. We adapt to a situation. Yes, we have 'males' or 'females', but we're not really ruled by it. Unlike humans." He glanced up. "I never understand that stupid tradition anyways. Women being supposedly weaker than men are. It's completely ridiculous. You're practically the same once you rule out the issues of anatomy." He folded his arms. "Why? What does it matter what gender one chooses to be with?"

Dib looked slightly taken aback by this random burst of open-ness from the male, but continued on. "Well, personally, I don't really care, but it … tends to be really controversial for humans. Guys are supposed to be with girls. Or whatever. It's, like, a scandal for two males or two females to be together. And I always wondered why everyone thought we were gay. Since we hate each other so much."

Zim simply grimaced. "People think that about us?"

"What?"

"That we're … dating!"

"…Well, yeah."

"That's disgusting."

"Didn't you ever think about why kids followed you around, calling you a fag all day?"

"I wonder why they would call somebody 'a bundle of sticks'."

Dib opened his mouth and shut it, slowly slapping his hand to his forehead. "No, Zim, that's not what they mean."

"It's not?"

"No."

"…Well … then what is it?"

Dib toyed with this for several long seconds, and frowned. "It's an insult for someone who's gay. Like … calling you 'alien scum' or something."

Zim looked back down at his hands, frowning and looking all the more confused. "I see…" He glanced up in time to catch Dib's patient stare and blanched. "What!" He leaned back. "I'm not one! Well, at least I don't think so. How do you even know?"

"I dunno," Dib retorted. "I'm not either. I don't even know how you know when you like anybody."

"Me neither," Zim said crossly, pressing his fingertips together. "But…" He trailed off and shook his head. "Never mind."

"What?"

"NEVER. MIND."

Dib frowned as Zim picked his small electronic device back up and began sifting through information again, mumbling incoherently to himself as he did. Dib just picked up the poster off the floor and gathered together all of the markers. "Maybe you should go home. We've already been here for over an hour." Zim tore his eyes away from the computer screen and looked up to the clock, slightly surprised to see what was upon it.

"Sweet jumping jellybean, we have!" he said, shutting off the device and clambering to his feet. He glanced over at Dib as he shoved it into his PAK and slowly thought over what he said. "I mean, I thought it was longer. Time passes slowly when you hate who you're with." He stood in the same spot for a few seconds longer, hands defensively coiled into fists as Dib shoved the poster behind the couch and gave him an odd look.

"Sure. Let's just work at your house tomorrow, huh?"

"No! We won't!"

"Why not? We've gone here the last two days!"

"Because … we just can't."

"Why do you not want me in your base so badly?"

Zim simply gave Dib a look.

"Well, besides the obvious."

"I think the obvious is quite enough incentive, DIB."

Dib frowned and eyed him over. "Fine. One more day here. But we're going to work at your house at least once in this stupid project."

Zim sighed angrily and rubbed his fists into his temples. "FINE. But I'm warning you … try anything funny…"

"I won't," Dib mumbled half-heartedly, for once actually meaning it. "I'll … see you then. Then."

"Sure," Zim responded, glancing the house over once more before heading to the door and finally leaving.


	3. Chapter 3: Great Gobs of Dookie

Yay, more reviews! ; They make me so happy, hah. Anyways.

Purpledemon: I'm glad you did! 8D I love experimenting with dialogue, and I thought that came out pretty neato, so thanks heh.

andalitebandit-6: Ack, I didn't know that… Thanks for saying something – I probably would've never realized that. As for the Dib thing … Dun dun dunnn, you'll have to find out next chapter! Cuz I'm still not at Zim's house O.O;

Silver Beast Girl Midnight: Yes, ma'am! sweatdrop And thanks hah.

HorseofDoom: Hah, same here. The closest they've ever really gotten is in Balognius Maximus, and even then it was to save their lives in whatnot, sooo…

Darky: Thanks .; I'm glad my characterization's good, because I wasn't sure if I was going too overboard with Zim o.O; Then again, Zim is pretty overboard. Oh well.

Anywho. Here's the next chapter for yeh monkies.

(page break)

(Chapter Three – Great Gobs of Dookie)

(page break)

Skool sucked.

Any human could have vouched for this opinion, but Dib was a particular skool-hater. It was so horrible – the sickening smell in the hallways, the dull colors that made you want to throw up in class by how boring they were, the lessons to match just because they were about four grade-levels behind all of their IQ's… it was ridiculous. Ms. Bitters had to have given the class the same lessons about the Big Bang Theory or moose for the last two years now, and Dib was only just now beginning to feel the whole weight of it. He was bored, and that was never really something he had been in skool before. Something had usually come up, whether it was that kid, The Letter M, throwing his books across the room in the middle of class that one time, or any of Zim's escapades … but now … it was just boring.

With a sigh, Dib set his head down on his arms, drilling his nails against the desk and Ms. Bitters just growled 'doom' over and over again under her breath. The other students were doing some of the same, with some variations of drooling or sleeping or doodling on the desktops. Dib's eyes trailed up to the clock, willing for the hands to move faster. Somebody do something … ANYTHING. he thought miserably.

And just then, Zim raised his hand.

See, Zim never really 'raised his hand', though. Zim waved his hand around in the air so violently that he smacked Zita in the face, or Zim put both hands in the air and twirled them around like he was doing an interpretive dance, or Zim just stood up on his desk and waved his arms around like a madman. Right now, he was doing the 'both-arms-in-the-air' thing, while almost hitting Brian to his left. Ms. Bitters was ignoring him, still mumbling 'doom', until Zim jumped up onto his desk. With a groan, she finally directed her attention to him. "YES, Zim?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

Dib suddenly looked sharply over at Zim with a weird look in his eyes. That … was awfully normal of him. Normally it was, "GOOD GOD, I HAVE A MIGHTY URGE TO USE THE BATHROOM" or some other odd way of emitting that he just HAD to go to the bathroom RIGHT THEN. It was only at that moment that Dib noticed just how pale Zim looked that day. His usual brilliant lime skin tone was a dull, pale, sickly green, and his wig was in disarray on his head. He was practically slung over his desk as he waved his arms around towards the teacher.

"Zim, you know that you used up all of your bathroom uses a few months ago when you spent that three hours in it," Ms. Bitters spat, automatically turning away to return to her lesson.

"But…" Zim spluttered, racking his brain. "It's an emergency!" he blurted, remembering that one time when Bethany had evaded her yearlong ban to the girls' room. At once, Ms. Bitters was hunched over him, growling into his face with those wretched fangs of her. Zim went to open his mouth to speak once more, but instead clapped his hands over them, his cheeks bloating slightly.

"If you think you're going-" Ms. Bitters began stonily, but was rudely interrupted when she was introduced to whatever Zim had digested that morning … allll down the front of her dress. The class automatically burst into peals of laughter, Dib included, as Zim's hands hastily snaked back over his mouth. Ms. Bitters, for the first time that anyone had ever seen, just stood, frozen, a look of utter shock on her face. In all her years of teaching…

"ZIM!" she shouted angrily, and all at once, Dib's laughter faltered slightly. This wasn't just one of his stupid ploys – he looked truly horrified with what he had just done. And with the look he was receiving right now, Dib wasn't sure if he was going to exit the class with his head attached. "Go to the nurse. Now!" Ms. Bitters finished, her eyes narrowing into slits so small that Zim couldn't see her pupils anymore. "Or at least to bathroom to make sure you have all of that FILTH out of you!" He nodded solicitously, leaping up from his seat and bolting down the hallway. Ms. Bitters automatically rounded on the class, and at once, all laughing ceased. "The rest of you, shut up!" she snapped. "I'm going to get this off of me. I've activated the sensors! If ANY of you moves, the attack squirrels will hunt you down like the little maggots you are!" With that, she disappeared into thin air, leaving behind a few tendrils of thick, black smoke.

The class sat completely stock still in their seats. They weren't really sure if Ms. Bitters could actually 'kid' around, and didn't want to take their chances. Mary let out a small whimper as she glanced around the room, searching for any openings where squirrels could run in. A complete silence had swallowed the room, and Dib just glanced around, wondering if he should just run for it.

Of course, just then, Keef sneezed, and he didn't have to wonder. Squirrels poured in through the walls, all leaping onto him and gnawing on his head and any other such objects they could reach. The class exploded into absolute mayhem, running around and screaming at the top of their lungs.

Dib took this as an opportune moment to run.

(page break)

(Meanwhile…)

(page break)

Zim stood, hunched over a filthy Earth toilet in the bathroom, his arms shaking as he hacked up some of the bile in his throat. He had just dry heaved everything he hadn't eaten that day up into the water, and wasn't feeling in the best of spirits as he fell onto his knees, groaning into his arm and rubbing his eyes. Irken sweat poured down his face as he leaned back against the side of the stall, and he just angrily wiped it away, his eyes darting nervously around.

"What is WRONG with me!" he questioned aloud, his hands skeptically patting down his body as he spoke. "This can't be NORMAL. Unless I contracted one of those filthy Earth viruses…" He let out a moan of frustration and slapped his forehead. "Of course, that's it. GUH, these horrible, troublesome pieces of dirt! They somehow ruin everything every single time!" He shakily pushed himself back up to his feet, grasping the toilet seat for support and feeling around for the door handle. "I must get back to the base. I'll have to scan for possible problems to see what – oh, GRAH." He punched himself in the head repeatedly and banged his forehead against the wall in ferocity. "I have to go to that miserable Dib thing's house after skool is finished!" He let out a small grunt and glanced up at the clock conveniently located on the bathroom wall just above his head. "Skool is just about over…" He frowned. "I could last for an hour or two. I just have to make up some excuse why-GREAT IRK!"

Zim jumped back against the wall as the door randomly swung open, nearly smacking him in the face as someone leapt in. He rubbed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow once the door slapped shut behind the intruder. "Dib? The h…" Zim grimaced. "Move – I have to go back to class before-"

"Ms. Bitters isn't even there anymore," Dib said passively. "There's only some horrible squirrel things attacking the class or something. Anyway." He gave Zim a squinted eye. "What was with that?"

"What?" Zim narrowed his eyes. "Oh, right. That. It was just your sickening Earth food. It's … enough to make anyone sick," Zim mumbled, excusing himself with a wave of a hand.

"But … you didn't even eat anything at lunch."

"Nonsense! Of course I did." Zim stuck his nose (well, at least where his nose would be if he had one) in the air and sniffed. "Come on. Let's just … go to your house and get this over with."

(page break)

(Later, at Dib's house…)

(page break)

"How do you spell … 'e…so…fa…gust…' … ?"

Dib glanced up from the poster to Zim, shaking his head. "The esophagus isn't part of the respiratory system. You don't need to know how to spell it."

"It's not?"

"Nope."

"Oh. I thought it was."

Zim was poring over a diagram of a man's organs, labeling the ones that had to do with the respiratory system. "What about the … heart?"

"Nope. That's part of the … whatever the name for the blood system is."

"Circu-something," Zim said, tossing the piece of cardboard onto the ground and glancing down at the progress Dib had been making. Dib bristled slightly in discomfort at the Irken's direct stare, but continued coloring in a picture he had drawn the day before. "Why have all these stupid complex names for all these?" Zim asked curiously. "Different systems and whatever. They should have easier names."

"They oughta give your race the same advice," Dib scoffed, glancing up from the poster. "Squeedly spooch…"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Come on, Zim. Squeedly spooch?"

Zim opened his mouth to argue again, but bit back his words, frowning. "Fine," he admitted. "Yeah, you're right. It does sound kind of stupid." He gave Dib a weak smile as Dib let out a small giggle, turning back to the poster and starting on another section. Zim watched him for several long seconds, turning back to his own poster when he gave a sudden lurch, sending him onto all fours on the floor. "Er … where's your bathroom?"

"Uh, through the kitchen, to your left," Dib said passively, waving his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

"Thanks," Zim replied shortly, leaping to his feet and practically running from the room. Dib's gaze flickered up at the sudden movement, but he didn't really think anything of it until the door slammed. He cocked a concerned eyebrow, slowly climbing to his feet and padding across the room, listening intensely for any sounds. He heard a sort of gagging noise and furrowed his eyebrows, tiptoeing closer to the door. He heard a flush and darted away, making it back to his poster just in time for Zim to throw the door open.

"There's something wrong … there's gotta be something wrong," Zim was mumbling to himself under his breath, patting himself all over as if to feel for any sort of errors in his genetic makeup or something. He took another step towards the living room before he gave another retching sound and bolted back for the toilet, not even managing to close the door behind him as he collapsed in front of the porcelain bowl. Dib clambered back to his feet, allowing himself to peek his head into the kitchen to see what was going on.

"Zim?" he asked in a perturbed manner, gently pushing open the door just in time to see Zim leap to his feet and run the back of his arm over his mouth.

"What? Who?" Zim spluttered, eyes darting around. "Jeez, can't a guy have a bathroom to himself for five minutes?" Zim spat, slapping his hand down onto the flusher before Dib saw what was inside. "Look, I'd better go. I have to … um … feed GIR … or another such excuse that could get me out of here right now." He winced and nearly slapped himself in the head. "Did I really just say that out loud?" His hands slapped over his mouth. Great gobs of dookie, stop, Zim! His eyes flitted nervously up to meet Dib's and he furiously shook his head. "Today was great, I'd better be off – talk to you later?" Zim spewed in one, long string of words before shoving past Dib and running to the door.

"Zim, wait!" Dib shouted after him, but only had to hear the door slam before he knew that Zim had gone.


	4. Chapter 4: What the Hell Is Going On?

**andalitebandit-6** – Ah, I'm not saying yes, and I'm not saying no – just because I'm evil. Muahaha. And I've only seen, like, two episodes of South Park ever o.O; I don't remember that one! And attack squirrels are totally love. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fever xDD

**Silver Beast Girl Midnight** – Dun dun dunnnn/creepy theme song music Thankies, love .;

**(Chapter Four – What the Hell is Going On?)**

Dib managed to get through five minutes of convincing himself not to chase after Zim before he took off down the street. He was way too curious about things to just let this go. The second he reached the house, he beat on the door, trying to see through the windows. "Zim, open the door! I know you're in there!"

"You can't come iiiiinnnn!" Dib heard in a high-pitched, sing-song voice, and he knew that crazy robot was near.

"Why?" Dib asked indignantly.

"Cuz Master said so!"

"WHY did Master say so?" Dib asked impatiently, peering in through the window. GIR leapt up, his bright, blue eyes peering through the glass to meet with Dib's.

"I … don't … know!" GIR finally exploded, giggling hysterically and running around in circles. He started making weird faces in the window, and Dib just let his shoulders sag, simply walking over to the door and twisting the knob.

"Welcome home, son!" he heard as he entered, and was smacked in the head by a robo-parent. Dib simply waved them off and he glanced around the room. GIR was still making faces in the window.

"Where's Zim?" Dib asked impatiently, and GIR let out a shriek and fell from the window.

"INTRUDER!" he shouted, his eyes automatically flickering to crimson as he leapt to his feet. A second later, they were turquoise again and GIR was on Dib's head, giggling. "Yep! Still like a puppy!"

"Look!" Dib cried, prying the small, metal blob off of his head and holding it out by it's own head in front of him. "Where. Is. Zim!"

"He throwin' up!" GIR shrugged, pointing towards the bathroom.

"GIR!" Dib heard screamed from the other room.

"You can't see him. He's horny!"

"GIR!"

Zim was out of the bathroom like a flash, chasing a squealing GIR around the living room. Dib leapt back as they almost crashed into him, and had to grin a bit upon seeing Zim full-out tackling the robot. GIR thrashed around wildly in Zim's grasp, but the second he saw an opening, he simply licked down the length of Zim's arm and was released with a disgusted, "OH, GROSS!" GIR just started running in circles around the room again, cackling gleefully and chanting, "Horny!" over and over again in that annoying voice. Zim just slapped his forehead and stumbled out of the room, looking all the more pale as he exited. Dib watched GIR run around for several more seconds before he realized Zim had gone. He trotted after him.

"Er, you mind explaining to me what's going on?"

Zim started at Dib's voice and whirled around, looking outraged upon seeing the beast so close to him. "What! No! Why do you care!" Zim spat indignantly, straightening his wig and balling his hands into fists. "Jeez, I get sick once and you're breathing down my neck with your FILTHY, dirty carbon dioxide!" He slapped Dib away as the male tried to get closer to him.

"Zim, even humans don't just get randomly sick like that!" Dib argued. "I just want to know what's going on!"

"Why should I tell you? So you can record it and make a brand new alien discovery to show off to your disgusting Swollen Eyeball meat children!"

"You … you know about them?"

"Of course I know about them!" Zim retorted angrily, slamming open a door and entering. "It's part of my JOB." This had to be GIR's room – there were plates of taco crumbs and moldy cookies all over the floor, and the walls were completely plastered with random pictures and posters of monkeys, Krazy Taco logos, piggies, and even a few moose. Zim just cringed and snatched a small, steel-looking ring off the ground. "Horrible … robot…"

"Well," Dib worded slowly, watching beadily as Zim pushed past him and started back across the kitchen. "What would you say if I said I wouldn't do any of that?"

Zim scowled at him as he slipped the ring over his head and around his neck. It automatically minimized to a choker size. "I'd say you were lying and to get the hell out of my base."

"Come on, Zim, I'm being serious here! And what the hell is that thing around your neck and why is it blinking?"

"So am I! And it means it's working, you insolent fool! It helps reduce NAUSEA, and you're dodging the subject!" Zim threw his hands up in the air. "GOD, did you really – REALLY – think I was going to tell you anything, you disgusting imbecile?" he snapped, hounding Dib down and jabbing a rather pointed finger into his chest. "I wouldn't let you know what was going on if you were the last person-"

All of a sudden, Zim stopped, his nails digging hard into his abdomen as he let out a sharp gasp of pain. Dib's first reaction was to run over and help, but he stood solid, his eyes darting around nervously. Zim slowly straightened out, one of his hands still clutching his stomach as he looked up. One of his contacts had fallen out, and his wig was wildly askew. "I said, I wouldn't let-" He was cut off again as he completely doubled over, gasping for breath as an acute lightning bolt of discomfort shot up his side. He looked like he was going to be sick again as he blindly swept his wig away and the other contact slipped from his eye. Dib opened and shut his mouth, not knowing whether to run or to help him back up.

But that's when Zim just launched himself at him.

Dib was flung onto the kitchen tiles as Zim pulled hard on his collar, pressing his lips so firmly against Dib's that Dib was sure his were going to burst from the pressure. He thrashed around frantically, beating at Zim's arms to get off before he finally threw the smaller body off of him.

"Jeeesus CHRIST!" Dib cried, jumping back and wiping his mouth millions of times over, as if trying to get a nasty taste out of his mouth. "I think I'm gonna be SIC-whatthefuckwasthat!"

"I – g – no –" Zim spluttered, his hands snaking up to his head and clutching it so tightly that his skull was in danger of imploding. "Get out! Get out now!" Zim started shoving Dib so hard out the door that Dib's glasses were knocked awry in the process. Dib let out an odd squawking noise as he was shoved onto the front lawn. He leapt up and dove for the door handle, but it wouldn't even jiggle when he tried it. He rushed to the windows, but the curtains had already been drawn closed. Dib banged his fist hard against the window and just stormed off, cursing angrily under his breath as he walked.

**(The Next Day)**

"You actually CAME to skool?"

Zim felt himself bristle uncomfortably as Dib's shadow loomed over his shoulders like a nightmare he couldn't get rid of. He didn't answer as he prodded at the skool's macaroni (at least he thought it was macaroni) with a plastic spork. He flinched as the shadow disappeared, as did the tray. Zim just jabbed at the tabletop, ignoring the absence of the food. "Zim," Dib said in a slightly softer voice. Zim froze as he felt Dib sitting down next to him, his entire body seizing up as if he was suddenly made of ice.

"Get. A. Way. From. Me."

Dib flinched slightly at the sudden harshness of Zim's voice – he sounded like he was going to rip off his arm and beat him with it right there. Dib looked down at his feet and frowned. "Fine," he spat, shoving himself up from the bench and crossing the cafeteria back to his normal table.

"What's the matter? Lovers in a fight?"

"That's not funny, Gaz," Dib responded crossly, brutally stabbing his lunch. "You didn't see him yesterday." He shuddered. "He just JUMPED me out of nowhere!" Dib wrinkled his nose. "That's not normal. I wanna find out what's wrong."

"Why? It's not like you actually like him or anything," Gaz replied slightly crabbily as she furiously pressed buttons on her Game Slave.

"I … I know," Dib answered hesitantly. "But, he just-"

"Just drop it. You have today after skool to finish your project and that's it. Get through that and you're free. Now shut up so I can get past this stupid fucking level."

Dib glanced up at Gaz for several long seconds, eying her as he let his stiff shoulders fall slack. "Whatever," he mumbled, and started stabbing his food again. It was gonna be a long day.


	5. Chapter 5: The Chill

**Silver Beast Girl Midnight: **gasp! I shocked you! I kind of shocked myself. I randomly came up with this idea. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure WHAT I was doing until the third chapter.

**drowningsiren: **You're about to find out! Yay for me keeping you at your computer for over a week o.O; Sorryyyyyy hah.

**Darky: **I love writing GIR, just because he's a complete screwball and he's fun to just let loose and do whatever the hell you want with him xD Thankies! hands you a cookie

**andalitebandit-6: **Hey! Someone's actually following my madness! Yay! .

**Lunar Lilly Muse: ** Woo! Thanks! Here's another one 8D

**GalaxyDancer: **I always wondered if Zim ever got the flu or something if it'd have the same outcome, ever since the Germs episode. Hmm.. I might have to investigate that in another fanfic hah.

**WyattTheEd: **Muah! Splodey socks frickinglove,yo. Thanks very much!

**W.N.: **Ewww, I didn't really think about that o.O; Pukey alien kiss, graugh. Thanks for everything - I leeev for comments like this! glomps you majorly and showers you in tacos and other such goodies I update now because I know what story withdrawal is like!

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The second the skool bell rang, Zim bolted through the classroom door, urging himself to make it home without Dib catching up to him. His lungs were burning with the pressure from breathing so panicked as he skidded to a halt outside the skool's doors, but he didn't care – his first thought was to get… away from…

"Dib," Zim whispered numbly as he stood at the top of the steps. Dib was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed and eyebrows slanted. Zim bit down on his tongue and casually working his way down the steps. He silently cursed as he tottered down them – his short legs had always given him trouble with these stupid things. He remained silent as he strode past the male, completely unblinkingly. Dib simply trotted after. "How did you get out here so fast?" he asked curiously as the human caught up.

"Window," Dib answered vaguely. "So, I figure today we'll have those posters finally finished, and I have the whole report written. We can take turns reading it."

"Sure. Whatever," Zim mumbled, inspecting his gloved fingers for several long seconds as they made their way out onto the sidewalk.

"Yeah," Dib responded half-heartedly, glancing over at Zim. Zim was still staring at his nails. All at once, Dib just gave a frustrated grunt, and Zim's wrist was snatched up tightly in Dib's bony fingers. Zim let out a surprised squeak and was jerked behind a tree and slammed up against the trunk. "LOOK," Dib spat, jabbing Zim sharply in the chest. "I don't know WHAT the hell that was yesterday, but it wasn't my fault. If you're going to be all weird about it, fine. I just want to get this STUPID project done and over with without any other problems. Okay!"

Zim didn't answer – just looked blankly from Dib's finger in his chest to sheepishly up to the human's eyes.

"OKAY!

"Okay, okay. Fine. Jeez," Zim retorted, slapping Dib's hand away from him and shoving past, his hands balling into tiny fists. "Oh." He stopped in mid-stride and turned slightly back to make eye contact. "If you touch me again … I will destroy you." He started back off.

"I'd like to see you try," Dib scoffed, trotting to catch up to him. "You're probably wasting half of your energy right now on not barfing all over the sidewalk."

Zim froze in mid-step again, his mouth hanging slightly agape. "How … why … how could…"

"You don't have your collar thing on," Dib said dully, raising an eyebrow. Zim pressed his hands all around his throat.

"Liar!" he shouted simply, raising his head high and storming down the sidewalk. Dib just paused and folded his arms, giving Zim a look until he teetered to a stop as well. "It stopped working last night," Zim mumbled furiously. "Apparently it only works after so much sickness. Okay? Happy now?" He started back down the sidewalk, fuming. "Jeez." He forcibly crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders as Dib trailed up behind him.

"Yes," Dib said shortly, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked.

Before long, they were in front of Zim's house, and Zim was growing increasingly more nervous. He felt like he was betraying his race with this stupid project – just willingly allowing this beast inside his base? It was unthinkable. He threw himself at the door as they made their way up the walkway and flung his arms across the doorway. "You touch anything. ANYTHING. And I SWEAR, you horrible Dib creature, that I will-"

"I know, I know. Reign some kind of doom down on me. Got it."

Zim squinted an eye at him, but slowly swung his door open, crossing his arms as he entered. He swatted the parent-bots out of the way as he walked in, Dib following closely behind in slight confusion. Since he had fled Zim's house yesterday … he'd changed everything. The couch was pushed to the other side of the room, the TV was on its side with nowhere to go, there were random side tables strewn around. "S-sorry about … this," Zim said brusquely. "I was just switching some things. Around."

"I can see that," Dib answered slowly, glancing around the room. "Er… why?" Zim swung sharply around to glare at him.

"What? What is it to you? Do I need a REASON to do something like this now, you filthy head brain of smell!

"Well … yeah. You don't just do something like this for nothing, Zim." Dib grimaced at a moldy pizza box in the corner that GIR was wolfing slices out of. "Especially when you haven't changed anything in your house for, like, a year."

"Insolent fool boy," Zim snapped. He crossed his arms. "Why would I tell you anyways, you gr … mf… and your disgusting mouth filled with … with … corn, still!"

With that, Zim quickly exited the room, hands in balled fists at his sides. "WHAT is his obsession with CORN?" Dib wondered aloud, glancing around and finally catching his gaze on GIR. GIR shrugged and went back to his pizza. Dib trotted after Zim in order to catch up.

"We can work in here," Zim mumbled, gesturing to the kitchen table. "Seeing as the living room is in disarray and there is no WAY you are ever going anywhere el-GIR, STOP EATING THAT HORRIBLE DIRT!" He scowled as GIR quickly glanced up, trying to pull off innocent with his cheeks bulging with greasy cheese. "Seriously! You're gonna make me sick!" GIR swallowed all of the pizza in one gulp, looking slightly upset at having to dispose of it, but turned that duty-mode red in a second and slapped his hand against his forehead.

"YES, PIZZA LORD!" GIR shouted, picking up the box high over his head and running to the trash can with an Indian war cry. He dumped it in and calmly walked out, whistling 'Jingle Bells' as he strode, flopped onto his side, and switched on the TV without any thought. Some show with rabid squirrels attacking hamsters was on, and GIR started giggling. Zim rolled his eyes and collapsed in a chair at the table, rubbing his temples. Dib glanced over at him, frowning as he pulled their posters and all that business out of thin air.

"I finished mine last night. And yours looks about done. So we just have to split up this stupid report."

"Wait, you wrote the report too?" Zim mumbled out through his fingers, peeking through two of them to give Dib a weird look.

"Well, yeah…"

"…Why? That was a five-page report…"

"I know. I don't care. It was pretty easy."

To be truthful, the report had taken Dib about six hours just to finish the stupid thing, but he wasn't about to tell Zim that.

Zim shook his head and pulled his hands away from his face with a withering sigh, grabbing the report off the table and flipping through it. "Well … five pages … we each read two and a half. So. I'll take the two and a half easiest ones…"

Dib actually allowed himself a laugh as he pulled it back. "Nice try."

Zim shrugged and gave a tiny smile. "It was worth a try." He ran his gloved fingernail against the edge of the table as Dib flipped through, trying to find a way to split all of it up. He glanced over at Zim, frowning again as the alien looked down at his feet and scowled.

"Zim?"

Zim jumped. "Eh? Huh? Whuh? What?"

"…You okay?"

"Does it look like I'm okay, feeble Dib thing?" Zim coughed. "Dib." He grimaced again and set his head down on his arms.

"If you need to, like, go puke or something … just go."

"I DON'T need to, thank you very much," Zim spat, rubbing his eyes roughly and finally just peeling out his contacts and throwing them onto the floor beside him. Grah, I don't even CARE anymore. he thought angrily as he pulled his wig off two, glaring threateningly at the human as if to challenge him to argue. Dib just shrugged and looked back down at the report, completely unfazed. Zim just pulled a bitter face and went back to glaring at his shoes. Dib just grabbed a conveniently placed highlighter off of the table and started drawing marks as to where he would read or where Zim would read.

"Here. That's even enough," he sighed, blindly shoving the paper at Zim. Zim picked it up with one hand and frowned, flipping through, confused.

"Wait – what's mine and what's yours?"

"The yellow's mine and the … not yellow is yours."

"Er, okay." Zim flicked through a few more pages and shrugged. "Fine. Looks all right to me."

Dib nodded. "Okay."

And there was an awkward moment of silence.

Dib twiddled his thumbs under the table, glancing around the room as Zim swung his legs under the table. "Sooo," Dib finally mumbled, his eyes finally landing on Zim. Zim ignored him, crossing his arms defensively and staring off into the floor tiles. "Why?"

Zim's gaze flickered sharply over to Dib. "What?"

"Why … me?"

"Eh?"

"For your … you know what."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"For 'the Chill'."

Zim swallowed. "Nothin'."

"You know? Irken heat? Same as a stupid cat's except you go cold instead of hot and there's a lot of puking involved?

Zim's entire body frame seized up. His eyes looked icy as he looked over to the human. "You. Couldn't possibly. Know. What you're… talking. About."

"I still have Tak's ship? I know a lot more than you probably think, Zim."

Zim's eye was beginning to twitch. He clenched his hands tightly together under the table to keep from leaping across it and punching Dib in the face right then and there. "But … still … you could never … The Chill? How?"

"I just told you!'

"Yes, yes, Tak's ship and all that." Zim squinted an eye and looked away. Dib frowned and ducked his head to try to see into his eyes.

"Zim?"

"Eh? What?"

"…Uh, I asked you something."

Zim was frozen again. He gave a thick swallow, but nothing more. He just looked down to his hands and shook his head. "Er … well … it's … it's complicated. A long story really."

"We have time."

"Well … then … on second thought … it's not long. Or complicated. It's so simple … your head would explode."

"So simple … my head would explode?"

"Yes."

Zim stood and started back towards the living room, starting to push a table into the corner and hunching his shoulders. Dib leaned over his chair, trying to see in, and just finally followed. "Zim … what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm moving a TABLE, you miserable … thing!" Zim shouted, his voice cracking slightly on 'table'. "What does it LOOK like I'm doing?"

"Why?"

"You ask too many questions." Zim shoved the table so hard into the corner that a piece of plaster toppled onto the wooden surface. "Look. You should leave. It's none of your filthy business."

"Hey, you're MY project partner and YOU'RE the one that jumped at me the other day! If I'm curious, it's all your fault, Zim! So don't pretend to be all innocent! Or something!"

Zim glanced back at Dib over his shoulder, his jaw squaring angrily as he headed back into the kitchen. "I … awelllithawjoowoo."

"…That … was not English."

"I said I, uh … I thojoowah."

Dib shook his head.

"I thought you would, okay!" Zim stormed over to the table and started sweeping imaginary crumbs off the table. "There's not an Irken around for miles for this stupid … CHILL. I studied human behavior and … well, you were the closest to applying. It said someone closer than a friend." Zim swallowed. "Seeing as I don't HAVE any friends … I went by the saying that you keep your enemies closer." He folded his arms. "There! I've told you! NOW will you leave?"

Dib frowned. "An Irken around for miles? Don't you have a space ship?"

"No, I flew here all on my own with pretty little pink wings!" Zim responded sarcastically. "OF COURSE I have one, you … person!"

"So why can't you just fly to a planet?"

"Because Irk is six months away, DIB. Excuse me if I don't want to deal with…" Zim shuddered. "THIS for another six months." He sighed and grimaced. "At this rate, I would think I have to." He scowled more, this time moreso in Dib's general direction. "Wouldn't that just make you so happy. The alien leaving for a whole YEAR."

Dib wrinkled his nose as Zim threw his hands up in the air in disgust and started back into the living room. His pacing was making both of them nervous. "Actually…" Dib blanched. "Well, yes! It would be nice!" He crossed his own arms.

"Look, could you just leave?" Zim snapped. "PLEASE, Dib, just LEAVE."

Dib opened and shut his mouth. "I … w-"

"Dib!"

Zim's eyes were wide and pleading for the first time Dib could ever remember, and he just started stuttering again, at a complete loss for words.

"Go! Now! I don't want to hear another sound un-"

"Fine!"

Zim started at the sudden bark-y, abrupt tone in Dib's voice. "Eh?"

"F-f-fine. I'll … do it."

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Oh, snap! I leave you with a cliff hanger! I'm evil, I know. Please don't let the sporks hurt too much! But not the outcome may be in your hands! WILL Dib chicken out! WILL GIR interfere somehow with his doomy madness! WILL the rating of this story be booted up to an M next chapter! The suspense ... headexplodey! I'll have the next update up sooner. Just much madness with spirit week and marching band and ... meep! This took forever to type. I promise the next will come faster.

Keep the reviews coming! I love them more than the Mountain Dew that keeps me living O.O; And THAT'S saying something!


	6. Chapter 6: Me No Likey

**Lunar Lilly Muse: **Er, thank you? I think. Hah.gives you a cookie

**Silver Beast Girl Midnight: **Ooh, naughty girl xDD And it IS rated M, so brace yourselves, laddies O.O; I saw that in your fic before I read this review, and I was all ... "Eh? This is like mine/suspicion>." But then I read this and realized you had no idea before and went, "Woo!" randomly. You probably don't care, but I share anyways!

**Purpledemon: **Haha, I totally stole that line from Mortos Der Soulstealer and switched it from "vermin lord". Curse you Jhonen and Eric Truehart and your amazing writing! Thanks very much ;

**andalitebandit-6: **After I finished cracking up laughing because you're as weird as I am... xDD Haha, YES. He will! Gasp! Anyways ...

**QueSaraSara: **Yes ma'am! Sorry bout that o.O; I update now!

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**Just as a double warning, this chapter DOES! contain explicit content and is probably not suitable for those under 16. Even  
though I'm 14. So it's kind of hypocritical. Just saying: don't like, don't read, don't sue. Enjoy.**

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"…Wait, WHAT!"

Zim stared wide-eyed at Dib as he started to fidget with the hem of his shirt, tugging compulsively on the bottom. "I said … I would," he mumbled so thickly and quietly that he wasn't sure if Zim could even understand it. Zim's eyes locked onto Dib's, his mouth hanging slightly slack in disbelief.

"Well … I-I … and you? Actually … will? Ah, hm…"

Zim was talking to himself, something Dib was known to do but still weirded out by. He watched the alien for several long seconds and raised an eyebrow. "What?" he finally asked sharply, and Zim's eyes flickered back up to Dib. "You WANTED to waste a whole year on this stupid thing?"

"N-n-no," Zim snapped in a stammering voice. "This is just … un-unexpected … and …"

"So, what? Because I said 'yes' now you're just not GOING to?"

"That's not what I-"

"I don't think this thing's hurting you that much at all. You're just AFRAID."

"Shut up! You don't even KNOW-"

"I don't know cuz you're not DOING anything!"

"I'm just-"

"Just what? Getting ready? Holding off? Being af-"

All at once, Zim's arms were locked so tightly around Dib's neck that Dib was having a slight problem with breathing. The force of all 84 pounds the smaller male crashing into him sent the two of them toppling to the floor, and before Dib could get a word out, Zim's snake-like tongue was darting down Dib's throat, coiling around his tongue and flickering inside. Dib gasped at the sudden contact and started desperately pulling at Zim's arms. Zim reluctantly broke away.

"What!"

"…Here!"

Zim glanced around, for what seemed like the first time realizing that they were still in the living room. The window was wide open for anyone to see inside, and GIR was staring at the two of them in awe.

"IT JUST LIKE WHAT MARY DONE TO STEVE ON-" he started squealing, but Zim impatiently kicked him in the head.

"Come on," he snapped to Dib, grabbing him by the wrist and jerking him towards the wall. "Computer! Level 2!"

An opening appeared right in front of where the couch was, and Zim and Dib were carried down on a platform towards the lower levels. Dib was glancing around in amazement, taking everything in as the two of them descended. Zim just restlessly tugging Dib off the platform and onto the ground beside it, starting to throw himself at Dib again when Dib stopped him.

"Wait, wait! Just right here on the floor?"

"I don't CARE!" Zim cried in a forced voice, grabbing at his antennae. "Anywhere! I only came down here because I didn't want that horrible, stupid neighbor-lady seeing!"

Dib sighed and glanced around. "F-fine. But it's gonna be cold, you know. This is all metal."

"No, really? I thought it was cotton," Zim retorted testily, crossing his arms and frowning. Dib glanced him over and sighed.

"All right! Fine, okay. I'll shut up now!" he sighed, grabbing the front of Zim's shirt and pulling him forward with a surprised squawk. Zim gasped as Dib's lips collided with his own and the human started pulling his body in closer, at least trying to get SOMETHING out of this horrendous experience he was putting himself through. Zim felt his arms get pinned up against the wall behind them as Dib pushed the both forward, slamming them both against the metal. Zim squeaked in slight discomfort, blanching as Dib's own tongue entered his mouth. His body slowly relaxed as the two began to tangle together in a sort of battle for space in each other's mouths. Dib's sharp-angled hands were plucking Zim's from off the wall and placing them on his hips as Dib pulled away. "You have to get into it if I do, space boy," Dib snapped in a breathless voice, automatically capturing Zim's lips in his own before the male could protest.

And then they were moving again. Dib was peeling off his trench coat and throwing it somewhere to the side as Zim uneasily ran his hands up Dib's sides, trying to figure out what to do to comply with Dib's yells. They never did anything like this on Irk. The breeders never had any of this 'making out' as humans called it beforehand. There was none of this 'foreplay'. His eyes widened with an idea as they fled down to squeeze Dib's butt, remembering seeing some guy doing that to his girlfriend. Dib jerked away again.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I don't know!" Zim replied truthfully, pulling his hands away and sighing. "I don't know how to do this! You do it!"

"Fine!"

Dib just snapped off Zim's gloves, revealing two three-fingered hands as bright a green as the rest of his skin, and jerked off Zim's top faster than he could figure out which word to object with. "Now we're getting somewhere." He crushed his mouth against Zim's again. Zim was breathing slightly heavily into the Dib's mouth as his blue t-shirt he wore every single day followed suit, landing just on top of Zim's uniform. Dib was kicking off his boots too, and Zim figured he should probably follow him. He did the same, but with some difficulty due to the body being pressed up against him.

"Dib," Zim mumbled through Dib's lips and pushed the boy's shoulder's back. "Grah, your pants are stabbing me!"

Dib looked down, confused until he saw the bulge in the front of his pants. "Oh, God!"

"What? What? Is something wrong?"

"No, this is SUPPOSED to happen, but … ew!"

"Well, why are you screaming like a glothnar if nothing's wrong!"

"Because I'm getting … turned ON by this," Dib spat in a slightly disgusted voice, looking up to Zim just in time to see his antennae droop slightly.

"A-aren't you s-s-supposed to?" Zim stammered, and Dib just shook his head.

"J-just … never mind. Forget it." They, slightly awkwardly, embraced again, Zim feeling a little hurt from that last comment. He didn't feel actual 'love' outside of The Chill, and any emotion was painfully strong during then. He blinked hard to try to concentrate on what was going on, but it was difficult. Dib was just ignoring Zim's body language and starting at the waist of his pants, beginning to slide them down the alien's narrow hips in order to just get the whole thing done and over with. Zim felt his breathing quicken as Dib disposed of said clothing and started to tug off his own, boxers included. This was really happening … It … He felt dizzy just thinking about it. He hadn't done this for years now.

"Dib," Zim spluttered as Dib lowered himself onto Zim. Dib paused and raised an eyebrow.

"What? What!"

Zim swallowed. "Just … be careful. It's easy to lose yourself in such an act. And this … isn't the best of experiences on the receiving half."

Dib just slowly nodded as he gently positioned himself. Zim had 'girl parts', and any other moment, this would have been the funniest thing in the world. At the moment, however, it wasn't the first thing on his mind. He paused a second and bit his lip. "Uh, Zim…?" he mumbled in a wondering voice, glancing up.

"Eh?"

"Can … Can Irkens get pregnant?"

Zim looked up at Dib and sighed. "They can but I can't," he said impatiently. "Invaders can't and … I just … can't … any…way… just go, okay?"

"Right," he stammered, shaking his own head. "R-r-ready?" He blinked thoroughly, still in complete disbelief that he was doing this. _This has to be a dream. Wake up, Dib!_ he thought furiously as he looked up to Zim's eyes. Sweat was already pouring down his face, and his glasses kept sliding down his nose.

"Sh-sure. Whatever," Zim mumbled, and looked away as, in one fluid motion, Dib just pushed in.

Automatically after, two sharp gasps entered the room, but certainly not in the same tones. Dib felt his arms shudder slightly as a warm feeling captured him and spiraled up his spine. He chewed hard on his tongue to hide the yell he was on the verge of letting out. _You're not enjoying this. You hate it. You ha-oh, Christ, this feels really good._ He shut his eyes as he slowly slid out and pushed hard back in, arising another squeak from Zim's lips. Zim was concentrating hard on not shoving Dib off of him right then and there. He needed to just get this over with, but the Dib-stink was already beginning to get rough. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to last. He dug his fingers unrelentingly into Dib's shoulder blades, feeling tiny beads of blood start to burn his skin as they pooled up from under his nails. Dib hardly noticed as he started a rhythmic pattern, trying to enter at different angles as if to make this feel any better for Zim.

Zim didn't look so hot. He was wincing with every movement, and the hisses of pain filtering through his clenched teeth were growing increasingly louder as they continued. "D-d-dib," he whimpered, cringing as Dib entered him again. "W-w-wait." Dib wasn't waiting. Zim let out another squeak and dug his nails harder into Dib's back, clenching his eyes shut tight and biting down hard on his bottom lip. Dib was oblivious. His own eyes were closed, and he hardly noticed anything around him. He just kept moving.

"Dib!" Zim tried again, his voice more high-pitched. Dib's eyes slid open just in time for him to climax hard into the male. Zim bit down on Dib's shoulder, crying out in pain at the force of it. Zim's eyes widened in horror as Dib slowly pulled out, looking over Zim with slight confusion, and a low, sizzling noise cut through the air. Zim started grabbing at his stomach as if it were on fire, collapsing on all fours and choking on his own screams.

"What! What!" Dib cried hysterically, not sure what was going on. He rolled Zim over onto his back and looked down slightly concernedly to the alien as he slowly began to calm. An eye was still twitching in discomfort as he bent over himself and clutched his stomach.

"What … the hell … was that stuff?"

Dib looked all the more confused. "What … stuff…?" His eyes widened in realization. "Oh! That's, um … it's … part of what males do… I guess. It's used … to get the females pregnant. And stuff."

Zim scowled up at him with one of the darkest glares Dib had ever seen. "You neglected to mention THAT."

"I thought you knew!"

"Really looks like I did!"

Dib blew up a strand of hair in his eyes. "Well, what big deal is it anyway!"

"Because it was WATER-BASED, you insolent fool boy!" Zim snapped, standing and impatiently brushing himself off. "I can protect my outsides but not my INSIDES, you idiot!"

Dib wasn't getting it. He shook his head once and went to open his mouth to speak when he clapped two hands over it. "Oh, shit," he mumbled through his fingers. "Ahhh, I forgot about the whole … water … allergy thing," he said weakly, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know – you just haven't had a reaction to water since that balloon I threw at you…"

"Why do you think I'm ABSENT every time it rains?" Zim asked him slowly, giving him looks as if he were the stupidest person alive. "Whatever. Just … never mind." Zim was already pulling on all of his clothes, and was feeling around in the corners for one of his gloves. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had fallen down the air duct to their right. With an impatient sigh, Zim just tugged off the one glove he had and watched numbly as Dib pulled on his own clothes, slightly nervously with an extra pair of eyes on him. "Well, come on," Zim mumbled crossly, folding his arms tight across his chest and standing as far away as he could on the platform as Dib stepped onto it. This was not really possible, seeing as the thing was only about three feet in diameter, but he was doing his best.

As the pair ascended into the living room again, they found GIR still inside, one side of his head pressed to the floor. Zim's eyes automatically narrowed. "GIR… what are you doing…?"

"Nnnnnotheeeeennngggg?"

"GIR."

GIR leapt up to his feet and frowned. He couldn't lie. He made an odd noise that sounded like a mixture between a scream, a sob and a cackle and nodded. "I was listenin'!"

"What? Why?"

"You was just makin' so much noise … I was worried!" GIR started running around in circles, giggling slightly and making farting noises.

"GIR!" Zim snapped intolerantly.

"YES, SIR!"

"Go away!"

"Yes, sir. Right away."

GIR fled the room.

"Stupid … robot," Zim cursed under his breath, flopping onto the couch. Dib stood awkwardly nearby, not really sure as to what to do.

"Er … Zim?"

"Eh? Who? Oh. What?"

Dib frowned. "I'm … just gonna go now?"

"Sure, whatever."

"You sure you're okay."

It wasn't a question, and Zim wasn't sure if he should answer. He gave a grunt as he stared off into the wall, his head slightly buried in his arms. Dib glanced over briefly at him, and just left. The second the door closed, Zim curled himself into a tiny ball on the end of the couch, gazing semi-consciously off into the floor as he hugged his knees. That was an experience he had never wanted to repeat in the first place, never mind now. He shook his head and shut his eyes as he tried-

"Master, you look tired," the computer voice suddenly interjected, sounding halfway concerned. Well, as concerned as a computer could sound.

"Meeh. A little."

"Do you want me to enter your PAK into sleep mode?"

Zim hesitated. "Sure," he mumbled, rubbing his neck. "Just set it for wake-up at six am."

"Yes, sir." A cord shot out of the ceiling and entered one of the spots in Zim's PAK, sending out a few sparks before Zim's eyes just slid all the way shut.

* * *

"Irken breeder number 946 – step forward." 

The smallest Irken in the line took a tentative step towards the control brain, nervously pulling on his fingers. He was being given another partner already, after the last insemination had failed just an hour before. "Irken breeder number 946, you are being set with breeder number 730." 946 swallowed thickly as 730 took a step forward, towering far over him and picking him up by his head.

"Come on, shrimp," the breeder mumbled bitterly, cursing having gotten this scrawny little thing. 946 struggled slightly between the Irken's fingers, but eventually fell limp. There was definitely no getting out of this one.

"Is there any chance … you'd go slow?" 946 wondered aloud as 730 entered a room to their left, shutting the door behind. The room was stark white, with only a bed inside. 730 just dropped 946 onto the bed.

"No, you stupid little fruit. I'm not." 730 locked the door. "Just because you can't seem to have any smeets-"

"This is my seventh person today," 946 whispered shakily, pulling on the hem of his uniform. 730 just sighed.

"And I'm sorry. But if I go slow, I'm not going to get you at all pregnant, kay?"

"F-f-fine."

730 slid down his pants and clambered onto the bed, looming over 946 before pinning the Irken's arms to the mattress. 946 clenched his eyes shut and-

* * *

-was slammed against a wall, two, jet-black gloved hands pinning him and place. "Hold 'im, Meek," the Irken cackled, looking the trapped alien still. "Don't look so tough now, do you?" The male pinned to the wall began to thrash around violently. 

"You let me go! Just wait till I tell the TALLEST about you, you filthy little ingrates!"

"Oh, boo hoo, the Tallest! No, not the Tallest! The Tallest won't do shit. They don't care about the lower beings, and you sure as hell know it."

"I'm an INVADER. They care plenty about me."

"You're a soldier in TRAINING, punk. You're not even fit to shine my boots yet." The Irken waved the second off and pinned the smaller one to the wall. "How many people have done it now? Fifty? More?" The smaller alien swallowed and cringed. "You're the shortest Irken on this rock. Everyone wants a piece of it, don't they?" The Irken ignored his whimpers and jerked down the male's pants. "Let's go, then. I still haven't, now have I?"

"D-d-don't," the smaller one squeaked as the other went to enter.

"…Yeah. I'll get right on that, Zim."

* * *

Zim was snapped awake as a small shock bulleted down his spine. He sat up, completely ramrod straight, breathing heavily as Irken sweat poured down his face. He wiped as much as he could away, swinging his legs over the couch cushions as a blanket that had been drooped across his shoulders pooled onto the floor. Zim had to stifle a smile. GIR had been in here. 

Zim jumped off the couch and tossed the blanket back onto it, starting for the kitchen. GIR was inside, making waffles at the oven. He let out a small scream when Zim came in and darted his eyes around. Zim frowned. "Eh? What?"

"Was you havin' a bad dream?" GIR asked in a mumbling voice. Zim sat at the table and hugged his stomach.

"Yeah. Definitely a bad dream."


	7. Chapter 7: Master Falls Up the Stairs

**andalitebandit-6: **Okay ... That was a bit confusing. Hopefully I can clear some things up. Dib doesn't REALLY think it's so horrendous. Deep deep down ... he really likes Zim. He's just been told so many times that all this alien crap was wrong and stupid, and it's hard enough to believe in that any more, never mind having a crush on one. A guy one, at that. He has a lot of pressure having a dad who invented super toast o.O;. That was a flashback for Zim. I was trying to be all sneaky so you didn't know who it was till the end but ... it didn't really work. Because I have developed lazy writing. I did have Zim's breeder number be 946 though, which is 'ZIM' in numbers on a phone. That was ... not too nifty. But I try. The other guy was just a commander from Zim's training camp from when he's being taught his invader-y ways. I'm trying to develop a reason for why he's so intolerant to everything and all that business but, again, ... doesn't really work. I'm trying! Okay, I'm trying haha. Anyhow. Sorry for all the question-y evil-ness. I'm cruel O.O;

**Silver Beast Girl Midnight: **No, he doesn't D8 It sucks being born the shortest person on the planet, dunnit. Hah! I'm glad somebody liked it. I added it in because I was debating about that for about an hour whether it would be or not. Aaaaand then I was halfway regretting it when I posted the chapter. Dunno why. Anyway. At least someone liked it!

**Lunar Lilly Muse: **Thanks :) Here's one! But it's a bit short - my shortest yet, I think. And it might be confusing. Hopefully you'll understand o.O;

**QueSaraSara: **Haha, if Dib can function in the 'comfort' department xDD Zimmy Zim is a wonderful nickname - I'm going to steal that. And there's nothing you can do about it! Muahahaa!LJ!;asdfj cough Update son? Is that like "update soon" with a missing 'o' or like "update, son!" Because I am no son! Physically. I'm kind of a guy mentally. And if it's soon, then I get that too, because I spell crap wrong all the time. Evil.

**Circus freak92-I AM GIR: **Hey! first time reviewer! throws a cookie at your head I'm sorry I made you cry! D8 I update now, because you ask!

**Mystery Reviewer: **Whoa, another first timer! muffined! I'm glad you like so far :D

* * *

Sad … so so sad. 

He's not happy – I just know when he's not happy because he gets the frown-y face and the yell-y voice. He's angry a lot – 'specially when I buy stuff. He doesn't like the pizza and the tacos and the piggies. But I loves the tacos. Tacos are yummy. T… a… c… o… s… a… r… e… g… o… o… d… I loves when they has the cheese and the bacon and the cheese. Baaaccooonnn annnd cheeeessseeee. BaCoN aNd ChEeEeEeSe.

But Master's not a normal mad. His voice doesn't get all scream-y and loud. He just sits at the table and stares. Stares and stares and stairs. Master falls up the stairs and Master falls down the stairs and I eats the stairs. Stairs'a marshalade and gum and foog. Foog is good. Hehe, goofy foog.

He's still not with the screaming and the mad. I gone made waffles and he don't say anything about it. I put chocolate in the waffles! Maybe the waffles make Master happy? I'll give'm the waffles with the cheese on top! No, no, no, no. Master don't like the cheese – the cheese make Master sick and pimply. He hates the cheese. I give him the chocolate though. Master don't hate the chocolate. The chocolate make him happy. I hope the chocolate make him happy.

I give'm the waffles and he don't move. He look up a little but he don't move.

"Master?"

GIR is worried and worried is GIR. Zim is sick and sick is bad. I know sick is bad cuz when Veronica was with the sick on Mooshy Moosh Mooshes she gone and died and it was sad … so very sad. So sad that Seth cried and Robin cried and I cried because they were all crying and sad and crying. So sad … so sad. I don't watch Mooshy Moosh Mooshes no more. Mooshy Moosh Mooshes makes me sad and sad is bad is bad is sad is mad and not glad. Master is sad and bad and mad and not glad and that makes me sad and bad and mad and not glad.

But GIR is with no cry. Crying is bad and weak and moo. I don't … I haven't cried since Master took mah rubber piggy to make Mary die. Mary didn't die – Mary shot heat-seeking rockets at Master and Master was so scared … so scared. I don't know what to do when Master is scared because I is scared too. Then Master was drooling and stupid and I felt weird to be smart for once and gone and made him normal again. I don't know how I made Master normal no more but he's normal and scream-y again. Cept now. Now he's not scream-y. He's quiet and quiet is bad and not Master and sad.

"Waffle!" I hold up the waffle to Master and smile like nothing's wrong because nothing should be wrong. Master should be happy and screaming and running out of the house to kill Mary again like he gone do all the times and woof. He don't want the waffle. I hit Master with the waffle and giggle because Waffles and Hitting are Funny but Master don't think it funny. He look up but he don't answer because he sad and no answering when he's sad.

"GIR, gashmooshgasheen."

Master don't really say gashmooshgasheen. Gashmooshgasheen is GIR being stupid and stupid being GIR and GIR not knowing what's going on because GIR is stupid and wrong. GIR knows he stupid and wrong and he don't say nothin' because Master tell him he stupid and wrong and Master's right – Master's so smart – he knows all and all knows him. GIR not right much but he wrong a lot and he don't want to be wrong and not right and dumb and stupid and wrong. He want to be smart for Master and smart and duty – hehe, duty – and happy and not talking to himself with 'he' and 'him' and 'GIR'.

Master really say he don't want the waffle, and I knows he don't want the waffle. Waffles gone make him make little sicky noises and use the bucket. The bucket game is fun for me but not for Master! He don't like the bucket game. He like the GIR-stay-quiet-and-watch-TV-and-get-out-of-my-way game. That game fun sometimes. Not too much – too much makes GIR go splodey and stuff. TV make big head gone explode like a thing gone boom like dead. Splodey!

"I like to make you waaaffffleezzzzzz."

"I know you do."

"Waffles make you happy?"

Master's lookin' up and there's an unhappy smile on his face and unhappy is bad and GIR is stupid. But he just sigh and grab a waffle and eat a piece because he want me to shut up and be quiet and play the TV game again. GIR no play the TV game. GIR help Master.

* * *

To tell you the truth, GIR's waffles are halfway decent. 

This Earth food is so disgustingly sickening – I don't know how the filthies choke it down – but GIR's waffles are actually standable. Granted, GIR's waffles don't have actual waffle in them half of the time, but he does try. I know he tries and I still get mad and snap at him like every day just because he's so DUMB. But then he goes and uses that … ffffACE. And I can't help but give in. Irkens do not feel emotion, but his genuine innocence is astounding. Ignorance is pure bliss, and he's just blessed enough to have it. I put on a mask of being fed-up and angry with him, but he can be quite amusing. And his waffles are pretty good. I will give him that. I won't TELL him that, because then I will be eating waffles every day and every night for the rest of my years, but I shall inwardly compliment the robot. But anywho. This 'jelly' the Dib-pig speaks of is in use in such a situation with GIR, just because he does have that ignorance I spoke of. It's something anybody can admit to wanting – even the delicious brain of ZIM! has craved it at points. But! I am not ignorant, and very much not innocent, for that matter (Irk has ruined the latter of any I originally might have had).

Grah! No! Zim is not innocent. Zim has never been innocent and shall never be! Zim will just eat waffles. Zim is thinking in third person.

"GIR?"

"YES, MY MASTER!"

It always makes me jump when he does that. Crazy … robot.

"I'm not going to skool today. I shall stay home!"

The reaction was not what I expected. I thought he would break out into gibberish about how we could make these pastries he is so obsessed with. But no. He just jumps at me and grabs my cheeks. Dammit, his hands are cold and that pinches!

"GIR!"

"NOOO. YOU'RE NOT SICK! YOUUUUU AREN'T SIIIIIICK!"

The hell? I just smacked him off. "Zim is not sick! I didn't even say anything about being sick! Jeez."

"But Master NEVER stays home."

I just shook my head. "No. But I am still tired from … things. GIR. And I want to stay home."

"Oh. Okey dokey then!"

I watched as he scampered away and slapped my forehead. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

* * *

**

* * *

**

Zim isn't in skool.

Way to state the obvious, Dib.

On any other day, I'd be intrigued enough. Zim absent never led to anything good. And after last night, I wasn't sure what was going to happen. For all I know, he could have imploded in some kind of horrible ball of … horror. Stuff. But I don't know. And I can't leave the room or Ms. Bitters might … I don't even want to know.

I really don't even know what to think about Zim any more. I just get confused and frustrated whenever I try to think of some kind of solution. Cuz, I mean, there's this one side of me that I've felt since the day he came here – just this blind hatred. I hate Earth as much as the next kid, but, I mean, I don't want it desTROYed! This kid – alien … man … thingy … whatever – just stands for everything I'm against. Kind of.

But then on the other side of my mind, I'm seeing him as … not an enemy. When he's not blowing shit up or trying to kill me, he's … not that bad. I guess. I know this sounds crazy – shut up – but it's true. The very thought of it just makes me … make … little … sick-y noises … but I can't just ignore something like that. Can I? I don't know. I just wonder sometimes if all those kids in the grade are seeing something that I haven't been for the last year.

Is that stupid?

I don't even know any more. I've been told so many times the difference between crazy and normal that I CAN'T tell the difference any more. Is it really that bad to l-l-like an alien? Well, maybe if it's a guy one. And you're a guy. And … people don't even like it if you BELIEVE in the alien in the first place … Okay, maybe it is that bad … But … still …

What do I think any more!

I just drop my head onto my desk. Skool is boring enough. Now I'm all distracted. Great.

* * *

Sorry for the short-ness, my cupcakes! That was an odd nickname. Oh well. It was only four pages in Microsoft Word - but also with a smaller font... - so it may be my shortest chapter to date. I don't know. I'm not really keeping track. Oh well again! Enjoy, my little wormbabies. OH. And whoever can get the other TV show reference in GIR's bit can have a COOKIE. Whoamigod. Anyway.  



	8. Chapter 8: Kill the Dead Stuff

**andalitebandit-6: **You made me pull a TAK. I looked at your review and just thought. "Hm! You must be smarter than the rest of them..." for some odd reason. BUT! I try to give nothing away. Is it that obvious? Or are you just weird? OR IS IT BOTH? We shall find out...

**Lunar Lilly Muse: **Okay! Cupcake is a fun word. You can't be mad and hear cupcake and keep being mad.

**Silver Beast Girl Midnight: **I've never watched Prison Break o.O; It just never really grabbed my attention, I guess. And it is FREAKY how alike our chapters can be, without any meaning to hah

**QueSaraSara: **Nope, still says Son. That's odd. And confusing a little. Maybe it's an acronym. like SUCK ON NOODLES. Or SPLODEY OVER NUTS. I update NOW! Because it's convenient! hah

**Circus freak92-I AM GIR: **different. But you were close! Thankies :) I like experimenting with different POV's in stories I write, because I get bored and go insane. But that's okay! At least it makes for good writin's. I hope.

**Dekoi**: Aw, thanks! Twists are fun O.O; I hate and love them at the same time. You'll be reading a fan fic and all interested, and then BLAMMO. Then you're all 'ARGH, WTF' but you keep reading! Because it's cool. I'm done now.

**Invader Iza**: Hillary doesn't see what's wrong with talking in third person. She does it all the time, and people call her crazy. Damn you, people...

**Anywho.**

**The show reference was the _"Master falls up the stairs and Master falls down the stairs"_** **bit in GIR's POV. It's from LOST, which is almost as addicting as House. Okay, not that addicting, as House is my bitch, but still addicting. In Lost, it wasn't Master - it was Teresa. But that's beside the point.**

**Anyway! Back to my filthy evil, I guess.**

**

* * *

**

"Shit shit shit shit shit."

Zim bolted down the street, math textbook clutched in his arms as he ran. "Late late latelatelate," he was seething angrily to himself, cursing his malfunctioning robot for keeping him up for hours on end, making waffles all night. He wished he had never stayed home the day before, but after he had told GIR he would, he couldn't rebel against that face. It was disgusting. The kitchen was full of random waffles stacked in plates all over the place. They had to have made about 300 of them. The thing wouldn't let him stop! Every time Zim tried to, he started screaming and sobbing and throwing things around the room until Zim finally cried that he would make more just to make him SHUT. UP. Then GIR decided to make it worse by continuing to make them even after Zim could finally escape, running around and squealing every time he finished one so that it was completely impossible to get sleep.

He was going to destroy that hunk of metal some day.

"Dammit!" he squealed as he tripped over his own feet, sending himself flying onto the sidewalk. He gave a sharp hiss of pain as he sat up and inspected his forearm, wincing at the long scrape he had managed to receive down the entire length of it, even through the added layer of his gloves. His knees were skinned as well, he noticed as he stood, and started snatching up all of the scattered papers that had fallen out of the book when he had fallen. He shoved some inside and just crumpled the rest in his fist as he grabbed his book and started back towards the skool, not running this side as he just hunched his shoulders slightly in defeat. It hurt to walk now anyways – he just hobbled down the street.

At least, he did until he passed the arcade.

"Zim?" he heard somebody call confusedly from inside and started as he fell to a complete stop.

"Eh?"

Dib took a step outside, dropping the gun to Kill the Dead Stuff as he walked. Zim felt his shoulders relax slightly as the human stopped in front of him. "Zim … what are you doing?"

"Going to ssssSKOOL. What does it LOOK like? Just because I don't play this 'hockey' like you, you miserable cow-"

"You mean hooky?"

"Sure. Whatever."

"I'm not playing hooky."

"You're not at skool."

"It's Saturday."

Zim opened his mouth to argue back, but quickly shut it when Dib's words finally made sense in his head. His eyes widened in realization and he furrowed his non-existent eyebrows. "You're lying!" he shouted, raising his fists in excitement and giving a small wince as he felt a slight spark of pain run down his arm. "Ow," he mouthed to himself, slowly massaging the cut and frowning.

"What did you DO?" Dib asked, carefully grabbing Zim's elbow and inspecting his forearm. Zim snatched his arm away and took a small leap back.

"I tripped," he mumbled indignantly, hugging his book to his chest. "Look, are you SURE it's Saturday? Because if I'm late because of your filthy head of smell-"

"Yes, it's Saturday. Why would I be here anyways? Dad would kill me if I skipped skool." Dib snatched up his gun and leaned against the machine. "And you sure you don't want to get that fixed or something? It doesn't look too good."

"It's just a SCRAPE, you inferior being!" Zim spewed, rolling his eyes. "I've dealt with a lot worse than that – trust me." He scowled as Dib shook his head and turned back to the game. Miraculously, he hadn't died, and he just went back to shooting zombies. Zim took a tentative step over to the game and stared into the screen, rubbing his chin as Dib took out all of the random zombie people. "What type of technology is THIS? You are actually KILLING people and-" He looked around. "-you don't get ARRESTED!"

"Ah, hah, no," Dib laughed, glancing over at Zim briefly as he continued to play. "It's not real. They're not actual people – it's all computerized. It's just a video game."

"Video … game? I thought that was the little blinky thing the Gaz-human carried around?"

"That's different – that's a GameSlave. There's tons of different video games; not just that."

"Oh." Zim just gently picked up a pistol and slowly inspected it. "Bah, this couldn't do any REAL damage anyway. You're right, Dib-stink." Dib just shook his head at him and laughed. Zim looked confused. "What?"

"You're just so stupid sometimes – it's funny."

"What! Am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are TOO."

"Am NOT."

"We're ARGUING like FOUR-year-olds!"

Zim opened his mouth and shut it. "Meh."

Dib looked back up to the screen, frowning when he found out that he'd just died. "Dammit." He dug in his pocket and pulled out two more quarters. Zim inspected him slowly as he pushed them into the slot. Dib bristled slightly as the gaze locked onto the back of his neck. "Doo… you want to play?' he asked slowly as he glanced up at Zim. Zim glowered at the Dib and debated, peering from the pistol to the screen and to Dib's hand.

"…Fine."

He flinched as Dib slid two more quarters in and glanced to the screen, suddenly looking confused. "Er, what do we do?"

"Just shoot bad guys when they come up and press the pedal thingy when you wanna duck."

"Uh … oo-kayy.."

**

* * *

**

**(three hours later)**

"THAT'S RIGHT, DIE! YOU WANT SOME OF THIS TOO, ZOMBEH! WELL YOU'RE GOIN' DOWN! DOWN, I SAY!'

Zim was leaning over the arcade console, vigorously pumping the gun trigger at the game screen and squinting an eye. He was grunting odd, little squealing noises, somewhat like that of a pig, and Dib couldn't help but laugh. Zim didn't even notice as he continued to shoot at the zombies, his tongue stuck between his teeth in concentration. "GUH – CURSE YOU, RELOADING!" he swore as he randomly snapped the gun off to the side of the screen and started rapidly pulling the trigger more. The last three zombies died, and a message flashed up on the screen.

GAME OVER – 900 BAJILLIONTH LEVEL BEAT. GO AWAY AND GET A LIFE.

Zim glanced at the machine, his non-existent eyebrow cocked as he read it. "That's it?" He let his arm drop to his side and stood up completely on the arcade game console, towering over Dib. "It's OVER!"

"Well, yeah, Zim. We have kinda been playing this for three hours straight."

"GUH. CURSE YOU!" Zim shouted, throwing down the gun and crossing his arms. He leapt down and frowned, glancing around the arcade. "Where did this place come from anyway? III have never seen it before."

"This has been here for the last 10 years, so you just don't notice much," Dib scoffed, dropping his gun into the slot with a grin. Zim carefully inspected him with a frown.

"What is so funny, human? I see no comedy…"

Dib just giggled. "You."

"Eh? What did I say that was so funny? Where? Did? This? Pl-"

"No, no no, it wasn't any of that," Dib sighed, rolling his eyes. "Jeesh, you can be the biggest idiot when you want to."

"ZIM IS NO IDIOT!"

"You are when you're playing Kill the Dead Stuff."

"Eh?"

"You were just STANDING on the video game."

"S-so?"

"Come on! You were so into it!"

"I wasn't inside anything, you filthy brain head of smell!"

Dib just started laughing, slapping himself in the forehead as he did so. Zim's pupils shrank to an inhumanly tiny size as he squared his jaw. "What?" He looked so confused, and Dib kind of felt bad for him.

"You are so behind on your lingo."

"Lin…go?"

"Yes. Like … Earth phrases. That you interpret oh-so-wrongly."

"ZIM HAS NO FLAWS!"

Dib shook his head. "Sure. You dwell on that."

"What? I don't! I perfectly understand your culture."

"Oh, so that's why when somebody says, 'what's shakin'?' you ask if there's an earthquake going on later? Or if somebody asks, 'what's up?' and you always reply 'the ceiling'. Or if somebody mentions 'jealous' and you ask what things have to do with 'jelly'. Or if a muffin is a 'pork-"

"ALL RIGHT, OKAY!" Zim shouted. "I can't keep track of your FILTHY little Earth phrases." He wiggled his fingers into a claw for emphasis and frowned. "Maybe if you didn't come up with such riDICulous sayings…."

"Ridiculous? They're perfectly easy to follow!"

"I've heard the way those darker humans speak! 'For shizzly my nizzler' and such."

"So? I don't say that! And at least humans don't say, 'great Irk!' when something surprises them!"

"No, you condemn your own God!"

Dib opened his mouth and shut it, crossing his arms with a grin. "Touché."

"Two… shay?"

"It means, like, even. Or something. I don't know."

Zim cackled once and pointed. "See! You can't even keep track of your own planet!" Dib shook his head and laughed.

"Okay! Fine, you win! Happy?"

"Very!" Zim grinned, docking his Kill the Dead Stuff gun and glancing up at Dib. Dib shoved his hands in his pockets and just smiled awkwardly back, completely disbelieving that any of this was actually happen. A week ago, they would be trying to tear the other's voice box out. Then again, a week ago, they hadn't … ya-know-ed. But still. Dib just leaned up against the video game.

"So, it IS a Saturday. What did you want … to do?"

Zim scuffed his boot against the ground. "I dunno. Maybe-" He froze and snapped his head up, looking absolutely horrified. "No!" he blurted, glancing down at his hands as his shoulders seized up. "But … over … and …" He blanched and gazed back up at Dib. "I gotta go." With that, he bolted from the arcade, leaving an extremely confused Dib behind.

* * *

lkjbghg;lkuio 

I was gonna write something. Dammit.

I forgot what it was. So that was my brain melting.

Enjoy 8D


	9. Chapter 9: BreakDOWN

I am sorry that I do not have time to answer reviews o.O; Myeh. So much to do ... presents to make ... project to finish ... head ... exploding ... more dots...

Anywho. I thought you crazy IZ fans would appreciate this. I meant to post it three chapters ago. But I'm stupid, and I post it now. It's a video by a little band called Mindless Self Indulgence that I'm a bit addicted to. But the best part of it is ... drumrollllll It's directed by Jhonen! Resulting in many explosions, madness, and his awesome seal puppet. Just go to myspace (dot com) (SHTOOPID LINKS) and look up the band name in the bands. The video will be ... in their pictures, I believe. This is just being stupid and won't let me post the linky. Damn.

Sorry.

Nyer, I'll just go to the chapter now. Enjoy, my little pig smelly muffincakes.

* * *

"NYOOOO. HUNNZLES, YOU'RE NOT DIRT!"

"GIR!"

"AHHHAAH!"

GIR leapt back from the television at the impending doom-esque sound of Zim's voice, clutching his head in horror. "Master's in trouble!"

"No! I'm not! There is no SSSSSSKYOOL, GIR! It's a Saturday!"

"Well, yuhduh."

"Be quiet!" Zim waved his arms around in the air. "I need to run some tests in the lab, GIR! Don't disturb me! And DON'T – I repeat – DO NOT let anyone in, GIR! Anyone! Not! A! Soul! Please!" He grabbed GIR's face and dug his fingers hard into it. GIR made odd grunt-y noises as Zim's nails began to dent his metallic cheeks.

"Hokay! Sheesh," he spluttered, swatting Zim away and going into a karate pose. He leapt into the air and swung from a random vine he found in the rafters, giggling maniacally. Zim slapped his forehead and ran towards the kitchen, practically falling into the toilet as he started down into the lower levels.

"COMPUTER!"

Zim impatiently folded his arms as an odd, tinny bleeping noise tinkled through the air. He looked around, confusedly, until it stopped. "Com. Pyoo. Tor." The sound flashed again, but nothing. "Dammit, computer!" Zim cried, beating on the console. "Wake up!"

"Whhhhatttttt!"

"Don't give me that!" Zim snapped, shaking a finger at the blank screen. "You are supposed to be up and running when I NEED you!"

"Fine, fine."

Zim scowled at the air in general above his head and started tapping on keys. "I need you to run a standard PAK malfunctioning check, just to see if anything is wrong. I think it might be acting kind of funny."

"Master, you just ran a check a few-"

"Do as I say!"

"Yes, sir."

Zim gave a wince of pain as hundreds of tiny, twisting robotic arms snaked through openings in a grate at the front of the console, darting hungrily into the back of Zim's PAK and tearing it forcibly from his body with a sickening squelch. He gently massaged the spot where it had once been as, in a shower of sparks, the arms dragged the PAK to a steel table and started diving into it in random spots and intervals, sending up tiny bursts of electric discharge every once in a while. An excruciating minute and a half later, the PAK hovered back over to Zim and automatically re-welded itself to his back.

"No malfunctions present."

"What? No! That has to be wrong! Are you sure?"

"No, I purposefully skipped over random important parts in the check just to anger you."

"You DID!"

"It is called SARCASM, sir."

Zim snarled and glared around at the air again. "Well, DON'T use it any MORE." He leaned against the front of the computer console and stared off into the buttons. "You're POSITIVE there were no errors?"

"Master, short of running another check on your PAK, there's not much else I can do."

Zim nodded. "Run a full health scan. See if there are any sort of viruses present in my system."

The computer actually sighed this time. "Yesss, sssiirrrrrrr."

More tubes flitted out, this time seizing all of Zim's limbs and pulling them taut so that he was in a spread-eagled position as even more grasped his head and held it straight. Another wince forcibly made its way into Zim's facial features as the tubes tugged hard on his limbs, coiling around each individual one with the force of a boa constrictor. He gasped audibly as they snaked around his chest and squeezed hard, but all at once, they recoiled, dropping Zim all at once and sending him down to an uncharacteristically graceful drop.

"Well?"

"Well… nothing. You're perfectly healthy, master."

"What! That can't be right! Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"No sickness, fever, anything?"

"Yesss."

"No viruses?"

"YES."

"No parasites or-"

"Yes, parasites. Unidentified parasite located in lower abdomen."

"Well … why didn't you mention that before!"

"You never asked for parasites."

Zim just slapped his forehead and grunted. "What kind of parasite."

"…Unidentified…"

"Continue."

"Insufficient data. Parasite, however, appears to be feeding off of natural bodily resources. Most common match found: tapeworm."

"YARGH, I KNEW IT!" Zim shrieked at the top of his lungs, forcing his fists hard into his temples and groaning in frustration. "The horrible Dib-weasel Dib-demon-pig-Dib planted some sort of horrible disease in my body to weaken me! He took complete ADVANTAGE of ZEEEEM. That WRETCHED…" He punched himself a few times and sighed. "Computer, remove the parasite."

"Parasite unable to be removed, sir."

"WHAT! Why!"

"Parasite is determined to be illegal to remove on the planet unless process is completed by a trained professional."

"…So?"

"Therefore, I cannot go through with it."

Zim snarled and clambered onto the operating table, cringing at the sharp cold of the steel. "Computer, run test #547. The one with the jelly or whatever. I dunno the name."

The computer simply blipped in response as the same robotic tentacles snaked out from under the table, strapping Zim's arms down to minimize struggle as another spurted out some clear jelly onto Zim's bare abdomen. Zim hissed at the uncomfortably low temperature of it, but just gritted his teeth to bear with it as another arm darted out, planting a flat end on Zim's stomach and slowly gliding across the surface, freezing at his left side.

"Approximate coordinates of parasite located."

Zim squinted at the slightly grainy image displaced on the wall-sized screen in front of him. "I see no parasite… Enhance image." Zim felt the table protrude up from the ground on a similar, thicker arm like the ones currently strapping him down and glide closer to the screen. Nothing. "Enhance," Zim demanded again, but the image only worsened.

"Master, the parasite is currently too small to recognize through such a test."

"Of course," Zim mumbled as most of the tubes hastily snapped out of view, the only one remaining being used to clean off the jelly-like substance as the table slowly descended to its original position. Zim slid off the table with a sigh, slowly rolling his invader uniform back down as he strode across the room. "I shall have to confront the horrible pig tomorrow. No, Monday. But for now, I'll just have to research such a parasite. That is all for now, computer." He gave a vague wave of his hand as he exited the room and all of the lights inside shut down.

* * *

"I am assUMing that you all have actually completed your projects accordingly, and will now proceed to subject us to many HORRIBLE hours of reading them," Ms. Bitters was snarling to the class, first thing Monday morning. She had a pile of reports clutched in her bony fingers, almost hard enough to dig holes through the pages. "I will pick reports at random, and whichever one is picked will recite it to the class, regardless of completion or any sort of spontaneous illness that might stricken any of you. You will not go to the nurse." Ms. Bitters cleared her throat and shuffled through the pages, putting them in a new order and picking one at random.

"SPOON AND OLD KID. Go."

And so they went on, each pair of partners coming up to the front of the room and droning about organs or cells for five minutes and slinking back to their seats, looking embarrassed. As the pile lessened more and more as the day went on, Zim could feel an odd feeling flitting around in his stomach. He was strangely nervous, and he didn't really have an idea why. It worried him. _"Irkens aren't supposed to be nervous," _he inwardly scolded himself as Ms. Bitters called out another paper. Zim just ran his fingers through his false hair and looked down at his desk. _"Hold yourself together, Zim. Zim. Zim. Zim! ZIM!"_

"ZIM!"

Zim's head snapped up from its slightly lulled descent to his desktop, and he looked around blindly, trying to figure out who'd called his name.

"Eh?"

For the first time, Zim noticed that Dib was already standing at the front of the room, poster and paper clutched in hand. "Er, we're up."

"Huh? Oh! Oh. I knew that." Zim snatched up his own poster and slunk towards the front of the room with Dib, ignoring the mocking giggles and jeers. Ms. Bitter simply growled for silence as Zim and Dib set up their posters. They did make the other posters look drab in comparison, but then the other kids had probably just started theirs last night.

By the time Zim comprehended Dib's voice speaking, he was already halfway through his first paragraph, and Zim swallowed, slowly peeling off his gloves and shoving them into his PAK as he searched for where he started reading. Where … was he?

"Uh, Zim?" Dib nudged Zim with his elbow, and he looked up again, slightly shocked. Dib's gaze flickered around slightly nervously. "Your turn."

"It is? Oh, yes. So it is," Zim mumbled, rubbing his sweating hands hard against the fabric of his pants. "Er, the respiratory system is made up of two – I mean, three major, um, parts." Zim coughed slightly and rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth. Whispers were magnified to a million times their normal volume. "Um," Zim attempted to continue, suddenly losing his spot as that horrible buzzing noise of all the classmates' voices filed his skull. Dib nudged his side again.

"Are you okay?"

"Whuh? Yes. I'm – I'm fine," Zim spluttered, balling his hand into a fist and pressing it to pursed lips for several long seconds before returning to his paper. "Um, the parts consist of…" He shut his eyes and swallowed. "O-o-of…"

"He's gonna do it again."

"Haha, yeah, he is."

"Of," Zim gurgled in a tiny voice, and all at once, he dropped all of his papers, covering his mouth as they scattered into a flurry of white sheets and fluttered all across the floor. "I'm gonna be sick," he blurted, and bolted from the room to loud cheers and cackling laughter. Dib was out after him before his papers even hit the ground.

The male burst into the bathroom seconds after the alien did, wincing as he heard the unmistakable sound of retching slice through the air like a machete. Dib pushed open the handicapped stall door and swooped down next to Zim, tentatively feeling his forehead as he was violently ill into the porcelain bowl again. "You … don't have a fever," Dib said slowly, trying his best to block out the shuddering moan that quickly followed his speculations.

"Oh, don't PATRONIZE me," Zim spat furiously, pressing a fist to his mouth again. "I-" He gave a small burp and grimaced. "I didn't have ANY of these symptoms until your filthy brain head smell thingy came into the picture."

"I didn't 'come into' the picture! I was brutally SHOVED into the picture against my will!"

"Be that as it may, you STILL took advantage of me and planted me with your filthy tapeworm-esque thing!"

"Tapeworm thing?" Dib asked, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

"…You… You don't know?" Zim said hesitantly, and paled when Dib shook his head. "So what IS this?" he wondered aloud, sounding increasingly more panicked. "Oh, God. Oh, no. This is bad. This is so not right."

"What? What is it?"

"I don't know!" Zim cried, feeling the sides of his head in hysteria as if to feel if it was still there. "And then my P-P-PAK is still malfunctioning or someth-"

"Still?"

"How else would I go through the stupid Chill! Invaders don't get it!"

Dib's intensifying worry was beginning to match Zim's as he crawled a little closer, trying to take the alien in his arms as if to offer some form of comfort. "Look, we'll figure it out, okay? W-"

"Get your FILTHY hands off of me!" Zim shouted, slapping Dib's hands away and springing to his feet. "Don't TOUCH me! I did NOT give you permission to do any of such! I ought-"

His threats were cut off short as he lurched and collapsed in front of the toilet again, dry-heaving absolutely nothing into the toilet and just simply coughing up bile as Dib came up behind him, reassuringly rubbing his shoulders. An obviously unwilling sob snaked its way through Zim's lips, and he just hugged his own head, allowing to let Dib touch him all he pleased. It didn't matter any more.


	10. Chapter 10: Smeeby?

**ZOMG. IT HAS BEEN FOREVER. I sorry. I stab my head! grabs a spork**

**Anyways! I finally update for you guys! Yay! Sorry this took so long - really. It took me forever to get this chapter at least somewhat right. I hope you like it o.O; I will have a MONDO review reply next chapter when I actually have time, mmmkay? Okay! Here you all go!**

**This was brought to you by the music of Rent! Because I am OBSESSED, dood!**

* * *

"Computer." 

A soft bleeping noise sounded as the computer awoke from a sleep, echoing slightly throughout the high ceilings of the lab. Dib glanced around slightly nervously, his fingers playing subconsciously with the edge of his jacket, tugging compulsively on the fabric as the watched on. Zim sat cross-legged on the floor, his shoulders hunched as he hugged his arms tightly to himself, as if he let go, they would fall off. He flinched slightly as the computer answered with an oddly obedient, "Yes, sir?" in its metallic voice. The computer knew what was going on. It wasn't going to be bullshitting him today.

"Computer, run a full scan on the parasite. Check for updates."

"Yes, sir."

Zim slowly climbed to his feet as a tube-like wire snaked out of nowhere, coiling in a wide circle around his abdomen as purple lasers began to ping out of it, pointing directly towards where the parasite was located. Dib watched in silence for several long seconds, but Zim knew it wasn't going to last long.

"I don't know why you have to keep running this test."

"Shut it, Dib-thing," Zim hissed as the cords snaked away and a 3D hologram projection of the current state of the 'parasite' flickered on in the air in front of him. "I am not in the mood for your quirks right now."

"When are you ever in the mood for my quirks?" Dib asked heavily, scowling through the shadows of the room. "If I had to wait for that, I'd never speak." Zim just shook his head, mindlessly mumbling curses under his breath. "You know what this is."

And then, all at once, Zim was silent. His hands were planted onto the computer console as he stared unblinkingly at the hologram.

"Zim?"

"It isn't that and you know it, stink."

"Why not? Why is it so out of the ordinary that you might possibly have gotten pregnant?"

"Because INVADERS don't GET pregnant, Dib! They just don't! It would fuck around with their mission, so just kindly leave it be!" He looked back to the projection. "It's got to be … be…"

"You said yourself they couldn't get The Chill either – and don't tell me you never got that."

Zim's body seized up. "I was kidding. They can too."

"You're lying." Dib emerged from his shadowed cover, making his way over to Zim and looming over the shorter male. "You said Irkens can't feel any real emotion outside of The Chill."

"Th-they can't."

"You're LYING."

"SHUT! UP!" Zim shouted, slapping his hands against either side of Dib's chest and forcefully shoving him back. "Shut up! Just SHUT UP! Shut your FILTHY HEAD OF LIES and LEAVE. IT. BE." He whipped back around to study the hologram more, digging his nails into the palms of his hand as Dib slowly advanced again.

"But you said they couldn't get The Chill."

Zim ignored him.

"Did you ever even fathom that something just MIGHT be wrong with your PAK, Zim?"

Zim hounded back. "There IS nothing wrong! I just ran a check the other DAY." He lowered his gaze, mumbling gibberish to himself until Dib could finally catch some comprehensible words. "The only POSSIBLE way ANYTHING like this could have happened is if the Tallest, Irk forbid, had messed up, and it was programmed to something-" Zim's cocky tone of voice died at the end of that word, and his hand he had been so rudely stabbing Dib in the chest with fell limp to his side. He glanced over at Dib, a slight tinge of fear dotting his crimson eyes. "Else." A rough clump of something made its way into his stomach as he forcefully swallowed. Dib just looked confused as Zim's stomach lurched and he stumbled back over to the computer. "No no no no no …"

"What? What is it?"

Zim just feverishly pressed buttons on the console, his fingers shaking slightly as he took a step back, swallowing thickly. An arm shot out from the computer, bursting forth and rocketing into the largest pink spot on Zim's PAK. Zim winced as it entered but simply looked up to the screen, his eyes frantically searching for the results. When they finally appeared, Zim's face completely paled, transforming him to nearly the same color as Dib. "Oh no."

"What? What does that even mean?" Dib asked confusedly as he looked up to the screen, not understanding the odd, manic-looking Irken smiley face on the screen. It was surrounded by Irken words, which Dib couldn't understand a letter of. "Zim?" Dib shook Zim's shoulders. He just lifelessly flopped around in the human's grasp.

"They still have me in food services," Zim choked out in a deadly whisper, and Dib pulled away, his brow furrowed.

"Food services? Wait, from career day?"

"No, no, NO. This is ENTIRELY … different… I …" Zim touched a hand to his forehead, looking almost as though he was going to be a mirror image of that morning. "C-computer."

"Whaaaattt?"

"Run a DNA scan of the parasite – give me ANY data you can. ANY."

This time, Zim winced openly as nothing happened at all. Well, at least it appeared nothing had happened. A fiber optic cord, no thicker than a hair, had darted straight through the Irken's skin to the 'parasite', taking one strand of DNA and placing it on a small metallic tray. Zim swallowed thickly as he watched the screen, his eyes taking in every letter that leapt up onto the screen.

"Sir, DNA matches that of SMEET."

All Dib knew was a slight squawk, and Zim had passed out into his arms.

"Nngh…"

"Ahh, don't move don't move."

"Gruh… Dib?"

Zim bolted upright on the couch, alarmed at the rather large head in front of him, and automatically wished he hadn't. His head started swimming, and he felt like he was going to be sick all over the floor. "Ungh, what did you do to me, human?" Zim moaned, clapping two hands over his eyes and becoming slightly alarmed that they were ungloved. He didn't want to worry too much on the matter, as any form of thinking made his head hurt like a sunuvabitch, and just flinched as Dib slowly guided his head back to a pillow on the arm of the couch.

"You passed out in your lab earlier," Dib said quietly, conveniently not mentioning why he did.

"So why does my head hurt?"

"Well, you passed out … onto me. And I wasn't expecting it. So, um. You fell. And hit your head. I was worried you might have a concussion, so I brought you up here."

Zim grunted a response, immediately ceasing a nod when it shot a sharp pain from his chin to his antennae. He slid down further on the couch and clutched his head, trying to block out some of the ache. "Dammit - GIR!"

GIR randomly fell out of the ceiling, dropping popsicle sticks on the way down. "SIR!"

"Get me some aspirin out of the medical supply case thingy. My head…"

"YES, SIR!" GIR squealed, his eyes turning blue as he ran off, his metallic feet clinking giddily against the tiled floor. Zim's nails dug into his head at the sound as he curled into a fetal position. Dib just shook his head and started to drape a warm towel over Zim's eyes. Zim jumped, glancing over at the towel and blinking.

"What is THAT?"

"It's … it's just a towel," Dib defended, holding it up. Whenever I have a headache, I put a warm, damp towel on my eyes, so I thought it might work for you. Except, you know, couldn't use the water, so I'm just … heating it with a heating pad." Dib flinched. "Why? Is it bothering you, cuz I can-"

"No, no, it's fine," Zim sighed, taking the aspirin from GIR as he skipped back into the room. GIR flung himself back up into the ceiling as Zim gently thanked him, and actually allowed himself the slightest trace of a grin as Dib pressed the towel back to his forehead. "It feels good." He suddenly blanched, the aspirin halfway to his mouth. "Um, the towel. I mean. Not. Anything else."

"Uh… yeah. I know," Dib replied awkwardly, recoiling his hands slightly. "Yes. So, um." He sat back on his feet and tilted his head slightly. "I … I should really go," he mumbled, fingering the hem of his t-shirt. "If my dad finds out I left school…"

"Well… v-very well," Zim snapped back, curling down into the pillow GIR had run in and shoved under his head. "You don't need MY permissions, feeble Dib-thing." He glared briefly at Dib, cringing slightly when he realized that any eye movement whatsoever hurt his brain.

"Are … you sure you're okay?" Dib hesitated, halfway to his feet. Zim looked like he was going to quite literally explode.

"Of COURSE I'm not okay, you inferior FILTH!" he roared raspily, clutching the sides of his skull as if it were going to reducing the throbbing sensation he was currently experiencing. "Your voice is annoying as FUCK, my head is KILLING me, and I have a stupid baby implanted into my stomach by my worst enemy! Things aren't too fruity right now!"

"Too fruity?"

"Too … apple-y? Too … pear-y? I don't know…"

"Peachy."

"Yes! That."

"And … you DO remember the baby thing?"

"Baby?"

"Yeah."

"…What's a baby?"

"What do you mean, 'what's a baby'? You just said the word five seconds ago!"

"How could I use a word I've never heard of before?"

"I don't know … you … did… It's the … thing in your stomach…"

"You mean smee-" Zim paused, gently running a finger along his stomach and swallowing thickly. "Smeet." He glared up at Dib again, one of his hands still massaging one of his temples. "You can leave now."

"Wh-what did I… do?"

"Nothing. You said you had to. I'm giving the permission you wanted. Or. Whatever. Just … go. Go."

"Oh, right. Um. But you can't fall asleep. I'll tell GIR to make sure you don't."

"What? Why?"

"In case you have a concussion. It's … bad for some reason. I don't remember."

"You're just trying to torture me."

"Am not! I mean it!"

"Great Irk, human – just go!" Zim cried, rubbing his eyes with two fists and grinning slightly. Dib shook his head.

"Fine. GIR, you heard me right?"

GIR popped out from behind the TV. "YESSSSS, I gone did! I did I did!"

"GIR … please … stop … talking. Zim's head is hurting like a hurty thingy."

"Yesss, master."

Dib shook his head again. "Bye."


End file.
